What Have You Done?
by JohnLennonsThighs
Summary: A one shot fic about none other than our favorite rhythm guitarist, Johnny-boy! WARNING: EXTREME FLUFF. Read at your own risk *snicker snicker*


I awoke to the muffled sound of John sobbing, his body gently shaking the whole bed as he cried. I watched his shadow quivering slightly as he tried not to wake me with his heavy weeping. I was definitely surprised, and paused to wonder if I were in a vivid dream; I had never seen John cry, nor emit any kind of emotions other than anger or pure joy, even when Julia died all those years ago. After pinching myself to make sure I was fully awake, I sat up behind him, wrapping my arms around him as I buried my face in his neck, taking in his scent.

"Shhh, it's alright. It's okay, Johnny…shhhh," I whispered in between soft kisses to his shoulder. He turned, taking me into his arms in response, crying into my hair as he fervently gripped my back. The way he held me was almost painful, almost as if he were afraid I'd slip away from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, baby," he sobbed into my ear.

"For what, Johnny?"

What on earth could he possibly be sorry for? The last thing he'd done that was even worth apologizing for was staying out later than he'd intended at the studio without bothering to call me. And that had been 2 months ago. A million thoughts raced through my mind at the speed of light. Endless possibilities as to why he would be apologizing to me. Had he been cheating on me recently, and only just now felt remorse? I didn't get the chance to explore this thought further as he answered my question.

"I don't deserve you. You're too good for me. You're just so…so fucking perfect, I dunno how you do it. I treated you horribly when we were kids and I never told you how bad I've felt about everything since. Remember that time when I was out playing at the Cavern and I was hittin' on that slutty, blonde bird? I stumbled home after you, completely drunk and we fought later that night, and you pissed me off, so I hit you. I shouldn't have done that. The look on your face was enough to tear me apart. I told myself I'd never do it again, but I did. I did for years. And every time was worse than the last. I don't understand why you're still here," he said, rubbing my back with one hand while the other gave my waist a few hard squeezes to punctuate his speech. I winced in pain, but knew he didn't mean to hurt me this time.

"John," I whispered, the words catching in my throat as my eyes welled up with tears. Thankful for the darkness, I sighed and attempted to piece my thoughts back into actual words. "John, I'm not perfect. I'm about as far from it as anyone…Johhny, I love you. And I know you love me, too. All of that happened a long time ago. You've changed and because of that, I don't hold any grudges against you. You haven't done anything to hurt me since we were just barely legal adults, honey. You've grown up since then. Don't feel bad," I said in a soothing tone, petting his hair.

I felt his warm breath on my neck come out in a huff as he sighed in frustration. He kissed my shoulder lightly. "Baby, you don't understand. I know I've changed and I know I've been a better husband to you, but I never apologized to you for anything I did. I feel guilty and I just…" He broke down again. His hot tears made a wet trail down my bare back, sliding all the way down to my hip, and finally reaching the sheet below our bodies. He repeatedly kissed my neck and shoulder, kneading his fingers gently into the notches in my spine.

"You what? What, John? Tell me," I pressed on, tired and eager to calm him down.

He sniffled a little before continuing. "I just want you to understand how shitty I feel. For saying and doing awful things to you. I'm a bad man."

"John, no. You're not bad. You were bad. But you're not anymore. Stop it, okay? Stop beating yourself up for something that happened years ago. I thought we were over this," I sighed.

"I thought so, too. Until tonight. I had a dream. A sort of playback of one of the times I hit you, except there was a twist. I was sitting in a bar, piss-drunk. I thought about how, when I got home, you'd cry and sleep on the couch. I was angry. I was so infuriated with you. With your weakness. I thought you were so weak for crying over me sleeping with some other bird. I didn't realize you truly loved me. So, I came home. And there you were, just as I'd predicted, weeping uncontrollably. You looked gorgeous, though. Tears streamed down your face, you looked so frightened and vulnerable and you were wearing nothing but one of my shirts. And yet you were so…angelic, so beautiful. Your perfection melted my heart for a second. I almost felt bad. And then the alcohol took over. Anger flooded me instead. Anger that you were wearing my shirt, anger that you were sobbing about something I thought was so stupid. I walked over to you and I just starting beating you. You screamed and begged me to stop. You kept saying, 'Johnny, no. Please, no! No, baby, please I'll stop crying. I'll stop for you, I promise! Just please stop hurting me!'. I didn't though. I just kept hitting you. Eventually you stopped moving. That was it. It dawned on me that you were dead…I killed you. And when I woke up…it occurred to me that I haven't said a word about any of the times I hurt you, I didn't even say sorry for anything," John said between clenched teeth, drawing in a sharp breath.

I was frozen in fear. I'd never realized it, but John could have easily killed me on several occasions. I'd always looked at his beatings as monstrous but minor. I'd never taken the time to consider the things that could have happened. He must've felt me stiffening in his arms, because he suddenly brought me to his chest, rocking us back and forth slowly as he whispered into my ear.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I love you so much. More than you'll ever know. God, what have I done? You must think I'm a monster. Baby, no. I love you more than anything."

He was finally owning up to his previous wrongdoings, but I didn't feel any satisfaction. Only a deep sadness that started way down in my core. I knew he honestly loved me. He wasn't lying when he said he loved me more than I'd ever know. I felt relieved that I was truly aware of his emotions for the first time in a long time. I rubbed his back and told him not to worry before kissing his lips tenderly and suggesting we go back to bed.

He nodded, suddenly looking as tired as I felt as I lowered myself back to the mattress. I laid there, feeling the absence of his heat as the cold night air swept into the blanket, around the curves of my body. After a considerable amount of time, I felt John's calloused fingertips slide over my stomach to my hip as he settled himself next to me. He wrapped his arms around my frame and pulled me to him so that I was curled against his side, my head resting just below his chin. He gently massaged my lower back while running his other hand through my hair. His heartbeat and breathing comforted me as I relaxed into him, slowly drifting to sleep as he murmured three beautiful words into my ear.

"I love you."


End file.
